


Lay Your Hands on Me

by placentalmammal



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Felching, Gangbang, Group Sex, Humiliation, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape Fantasy, Rimming, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Supermutant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maxson masturbates to fantasies of being used by a group of supermutants. See end note for more detailed content warning. Originally posted <a href="http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/6099.html?thread=16710867#t16710867">here</a> on the Fallout Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Your Hands on Me

The Elder’s quarters were cold steel, like the rest of the Prydwen. Hard rooms for a hard man, furnished with heavy, austere pre-war pieces salvaged from one of the Commonwealth’s many museums. Maxson used his terminal to seal and lock his pneumatic door and disable incoming messages, switching his status from ‘available’ to ‘do not disturb’ with a few typed commands. Satisfied that he had secured his privacy, he shrugged out of his heavy coat, letting it slip from his fingers onto the metal floor.

Privacy was a luxury aboard the Prydwen; his secluded chambers were one of the perks of his Elder status. The job was difficult; it was impossible to steal a few moments in which to relax. It was good fortune that Brotherhood’s newest recruit was so capable, so driven. They were able to shoulder a little of Maxson’s burden and allow him a little time to himself.

He took his time undressing, sliding his hands over his body, cupping and caressing himself and imaging several pairs of huge, rough hands plucking at his clothing and pinching his flesh. He closed his eyes and imagined himself in a supermutant encampment, battered, exhausted, and too weak to resist as they stripped him bare, their small eyes roving greedily over his body. He shivered, tugging his undershirt off over his head, pinching his nipples and running his hand down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his underwear. The radiant cold of the metal floor and walls seeped through his socks, chilling his feet and raising gooseflesh all over his body.

The mutants would be rough, uncaring. They’d unwrap him like a present, jostling one another in their eagerness to tear his clothes away. Maxson was not a small man--he was tall for a human, his body firm and muscular--but the mutants would dwarf him. He’d feel small in their midst, vulnerable but defiant, even when they tore his undergarments away, exposing him completely.

Maxson eased his boxers down his legs, freeing his dick. He was half-hard, but the room was cold. He shuddered, imagining a dozen beady eyes sliding over his body, measuring his cock and finding him wanting. They would laugh at him, and his gut would clench and twist in sweet, hot shame, blood rushing to his face, away from his cock. He’d stand among them, small and delicate, and they’d still be laughing when they forced him down onto his knees. Huge, strong hands would hold him still rendering him helpless and immobile while their leader forced his clenched jaw open.

He shuddered again and collapsed onto his bed, his boxers tangled around his ankles, socks still on. He’d never had the opportunity to suck cock; he’d had little physical or sexual contact with others in the tumultuous years since he’d been named Elder. It was strange to find himself catapulted into a position of authority, strange to find himself the superior of men and women twice his age. His peers were no longer peers but underlings, and the idea of seducing one of the paladins under his command set his skin to crawling. The power dynamics felt _off_ to him, a violation of some unspoken code of conduct. He’d fallen back on fantasy in the four years since he assumed the rank of Elder, mining his memories of Sarah Lyons and the Lone Wanderer to populate his imaginary harem.

The Wanderer had traveled with a supermutant, a huge green brute named Fawkes. The sight of the mutant’s bare, muscular torso and huge arms had been a formative experience for a young boy, though it had taken years for his percolating fascination to solidify into a fetish.

The mutant cock would be too big. His lips would crack and burn as the giant forced himself into Maxson’s mouth, inch by inch. He would slide his tongue along the underside of the mutant’s length, shivering in horror and private delight, gagging when the mutant hit the back of his throat. An enormous hand would tangle in his hair, and the mutant would use him, fucking his mouth until he was light-headed from oxygen deprivation, lungs and lips burning from strain. The mutant would come down his throat, holding Maxson in place until he swallowed. He’d pull out and Maxson would sob from relief and arousal.

He squeezed the base of his cock with one hand and teased his head with the other, sliding his fingers over his slit to collect precome. He smeared his cock with his fluids, suppressing a wordless groan of pleasure.

Dizzy and disoriented, Maxson would offer no resistance as the mutants flipped him onto his belly and spread his legs. Big, blunt fingers would squeeze his ass and part him, exposing his entrance to the cold air. He’d scream from the shock of penetration, and one of the mutants would grunt in alarm. They’d stuff his boxers into his mouth and tie the gag in place with a scrap torn from his discarded shirt.

Maxson let go of his cock and reached down to slide his fingers along the sensitive skin of his perineum, toes curling with pleasure. He spread himself and pressed one of his slick fingers against his hole, pushing into himself with a breathy moan. He clenched around the finger, muscles moving involuntarily to pull it deeper into his ass. He added a second finger, scissoring until he relaxed enough to add a third.

In his fantasy, there was no need for lubrication. The mutant would thrust into him, stretching his asshole and grunting in satisfaction as Maxson shuddered and clenched around the mutant’s fat, green cock. It would be painful and strange and pleasurable all at once, and he’d cry out noiselessly, his pleas transmuted to muffled grunts by the crude cloth gag.

The mutant would be merciless, thrusting deep and hard, balls slapping rhythmically against Maxson’s ass. Mad from terror and pleasure, he’d rut back against the mutant in debasing, animalistic desperation. The mutant’s laughter would have him feeling half an inch tall, cock shriveling in delicious humiliation despite his arousal, even as huge hands wrapped around his waist, holding him still while the supermutant pounded his ass. His movements would become jerky, erratic, and then he’d finish inside Maxson, filling his ass with hot, thick mutant come. When the mutant pulled out, the spunk would drip out of his distended asshole, cooling in the breeze and drawing a sob from the much-abused Elder.

Maxson moaned when his numb fingers brushed his prostate. He stroked the gland with one slick fingertip, gasping and insensate with arousal. He pushed back against his hand as he fingerfucked himself, the muscles in his legs twitching and jumping as he hit his plateau.

The next mutant would squat behind Maxson, bringing his mouth flush with his asshole, lapping at the cum dribbling down the curve of his ass. He’d form a tight seal with his mouth, sucking the cum out of Maxson’s rectum, his tongue drawing rough, sloppy circles around the puckered ring of muscles. Maxson would rock against the mutant’s mouth, cock and balls throbbing from neglect. The mutant would pull away abruptly and fuck him without penetration, cock sliding between Maxson’s thighs, fucking him without obstructing his view of Maxson’s gaping asshole. The mutant’s hands would leave bruises on his back and buttocks, and his cock would sear its shape into the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. He’d blow his load on Maxson’s ass and lower back, marking him possessively as the other mutants sighed and chattered, ready and eager for their turns with the human fucktoy.

They’d take him two at once, one tearing the gag away and replacing it with his cock while another fucked his ass, stretching him even wider. Maxson would close his eyes and let them take him, rocking between the two while they used him, grunting in approval as they palmed his flesh, squeezing and pinching and adding fresh bruises. Their ungentle hands made him shiver and moan around the cock in his mouth, all his pain turned to pleasure. Overwhelmed and exhausted by the supermutant’s lust, he would have to give in. Self-preservation would mute his terror, heighten his arousal, allow him to enjoy being used. By the time the mutants were finished with them, he’d be their eager whore, ready to suck and fuck and feel their rough hands on every part of him, feel their thick, fat cocks in him and on him, their ejaculate in his hair and mouth and asshole.

There was no end to them, in his fantasy. Every time one finished--in him or on him--there was another to take his place. Maxson stayed on his hands and knees, shivering and sore, as an endless parade of enormous cocks, each bigger than the last, split him open and loosened him up.

Maxson moaned and began pumping his cock with his free hand, rough and unlubricated and _exactly_ what he needed. He came forcefully, painting his hand and sheets with semen. He groaned as his dick twitched and jerked in his hand. He lay there a moment, panting and exhausted, then stood and cleaned himself off, ignoring his discarded clothing in favor of a worn, comfortable terry cloth robe. His afterglow left him hazy and sleepy, and he shuffled across the room to his terminal, changing his status back to ‘available.’

Twenty-eight unread messages with demanding, alarmist subject lines popped up immediately, and Maxson groaned, then shut the terminal off. He crawled into bed, carefully positioning himself away from the wet patch, and fell asleep immediately, dreaming about supermutants.

**Author's Note:**

> Maxson fantasizes about a rough, not-necessarily-consensual encounter with a group of mutants. Although no “actual” rape occurs, his fantasy explicitly involves non-consensual sex and is described in detailed language.


End file.
